


Malcolm Bright tries Vacation 2: Electric Boogaloo (LA edition)

by SlitheredFromEden



Category: Lucifer (TV), Prodigal Son (TV 2019)
Genre: Crossover, F/M, LA edition, Malcolm Bright tries Vacation 2: Electric Boogaloo
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-10
Updated: 2020-04-14
Packaged: 2021-02-27 23:54:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 8,426
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22644466
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SlitheredFromEden/pseuds/SlitheredFromEden
Summary: Prodigal Son/Lucifer crossover.... because I couldn’t help myselfMalcolm is finally sent on vacation, mostly by his mother and Gil’s relentless insistence, and plans on spending some peace and quiet in sunny Los Angeles. But Malcolm Bright should’ve known that wasn’t going to happen. Not with his track record.
Relationships: Chloe Decker/Lucifer Morningstar
Comments: 90
Kudos: 227





	1. Wherever Malcolm Goes Trouble Is Sure to Follow

**Author's Note:**

> I haven’t seen much crossovers so I thought I’d start the movement ...  
> enjoy!

As soon as Malcolm touched down at LAX multiple text messages came through; mostly from his mother and Gil. Malcolm opened the one message from Dani. 

From: D. Powell

Let me know when you get there and TRY to have fun 

To: D. Powell  
Just landed and I’ll try my best 

Malcolm decided he’ll get to the rest of the messages once he gets to his hotel. He hailed a cab with a sharp whistle and was off on his way. 

"You from New York?" The cab driver asked through the rear view mirror. 

"Yes, actually,” Malcolm smiled politely. "How’d you guess?” 

"That unmistakable whistle," the driver, who introduced himself as Ahmad, laughed. "You New Yorkers always showing off your whistling skills," 

Malcolm laughed and that was the end of that conversation, but it wasn’t the last. Malcolm enjoyed Ahmad and his constant stream of thought. The guy had to be in his early twenties. Malcolm could tell he was here for that LA promise of fame. 

The ride was smooth and in Malcolm’s opinion ended too soon. He enjoyed the younger man’s company. Malcolm wondered if it would be weird if he were to ask for his contact information, then ruled against it. He made sure to tip him well as he exited the cab. "Thank you, good luck on your writing," 

"How’d you know I’m a writer?” Ahmad raised his brows. 

"You writers are always showing off your storytelling skills," Malcolm smirked. 

"Have a pleasant stay," the driver tipped his head and drove off. 

His hotel was grand. Almost too grand, but what else could Malcolm have expected from his mother. He was greeted by a doorman who offered to carry his coat and luggage. 

"No, I can handle carrying my own belongings," Malcolm assured him, but tipped him nonetheless. 

At the front desk, he was welcomed by a blond man with the most forced smile Malcolm has ever seen, and he’s been surrounded by fake smiles his entire life. 

"Malcolm Bright," he said to the receptionist, whose name tag read Benjamin. 

"Room 10-10," Benjamin reported after typing away. "If you’ll wait a moment I’ll have someone show you to your room," 

"No, it’s alright. Just give me the key," 

"That’s on the tenth floor and your room is right down the hall once you get off the elevator," the receptionist placed the key in his hand. "Have a wonderful stay," 

Malcolm found his room easily and dropped his bag onto the bed, unzipping it and pulling out two chains for his sleep. Noted, they were a lot smaller than the ones he’s accustomed to but Malcolm couldn’t really sneak those in through customs. 

Joining his luggage on the bed, he opened the floodgates that are his mother’s messages. 

From: Mother   
How’s the flight?

From: Mother  
Any turbulence?

From: Mother  
I hope not. I was told that Pilot Murdock was the best. 

From: Mother  
How’s the food?   
  
From: Mother  
Did you take your medication? 

From: Mother  
Your phone is probably off. I’ll speak with you tomorrow. 

Malcolm tapped his phone over to Gil’s messages. 

From: Gil  
Stay out of trouble 

From: Gil  
I’m serious Malcolm 

From: Gil  
Your mother is slightly freaking out because you left your neck pillow, but I know you left it behind on purpose 

From: Gil  
Let me know when you land.. 

From: Gil  
STAY OUT OF TROUBLE

Malcolm laughed and went to open his notification from his sister. 

From: Ainsley  
Are you actually going to LA or a murder mystery resort? 

Malcolm shot back a reply, 

To: Ainsley  
I was under the impression LA was the murder mystery resort 

Then, a message from JT came through

From: JT  
bring me back something expensive 

To: JT  
👍🏼

It didn’t come as a surprise that Malcolm couldn’t fall asleep. So, as a result, he laid awake listening to complete silence surrounding him. It was almost deafening. He released himself from his restraints to open the window. 

LA wasn’t a dead city at night, not in the way the east coast claims. Malcolm could feel the young insomniac dreamers staring at an empty canvas waiting for inspiration to shrike, hunching over their laptops attempting to formulate the perfect sentence, quietly reciting a few lines that they’ve already perfected, and rushing over to an instrument as soon as a new riff springs to mind.

LA, evidently, was very much alive. Or it hasn’t killed the hopes of many just yet. Back in New York, cooperations ran the city, and people would just sit back as the robotic communication between cooperations grew stronger. 

Did Malcolm hate New York? Or was he suddenly presented to a world where everything New York stood for was a barely a smudge on the pavement? He really couldn’t decide. The night breeze picked up and Malcolm closed the window, engulfing himself silence once again. 

His phone was read 2:30 am, and Malcolm decided it wasn’t too late to go for a nighttime stroll. Quickly switching out of his sleepwear, Malcolm was making his way to the quiet street. The further from the hotel he got, the louder it became. 

The sound lead Malcolm to a nightclub named LUX. He flashed his ID to the bouncer was found a seat at the bar. Typically, nightclubs weren’t inviting to him, but it beat drowning in his thoughts back at his hotel room. 

"You from out of town?" A man’s voice came from his right.

"Is it that obvious?” Malcolm countered with a short laugh. 

"Sort of," the man laughed. "I don’t mean anything bad by it." 

"I’m not offended by it," Malcolm assures him. He extends his hand. "I’m Malcolm Bright," 

"Amenadiel," Amenadiel accepts it. "What do you drink?"

"Bourbon," Malcolm winced at how much he sounded like his mother. 

Amenadiel faces the bar tender, "Chris, get Malcolm a bourbon. On the house,” 

"No, I should pay-" 

"My brother owns LUX," Amenadiel cut him off. "It’s no big deal," 

"Thank you,” his drink was placed in front of him. "You aren’t getting anything?"

"No, I should be heading home,” Amenadiel stood. "Nice meeting you,"

"You too," 

Malcolm downed his drink and also stood to leave, leaving a tip for Chris the bartender. 

"EVERYBODY DOWN!" A voice in the center shouted out, followed by a string of gunshots. "I SAID DOWN!" 

Screaming and running broke out. Malcolm needed to get closer to the guy. 

"I SAID GET THE FUCK DOWN!” the man shouted, firing more bullets. 

This time, the people who didn’t manage to escape got down. Including Malcolm himself. 

"Alright," a British accent broke out. "You got my attention. I’d appreciate it if you stopped decorating my nightclub with your cheap bullets," 

Malcolm faced the voice, a tall man in a nearly tailored suit towered above the sea of bodies. Malcolm figured he had to be Amenadiel’s brother. 

"Lucifer Morningstar," the guy gritted out. 

"Yes, that’s my name," the tall man, Lucifer, laughed taking a step forward. 

"You ruined my life-"

"No, I didn’t," Lucifer objected. "I never interfere in anyone’s life. Try again,” 

"You’re the reason why my brother is arrested, and why my father is dead,” the man pointed his gun at Lucifer. 

Malcolm wondered why Lucifer was being framed for murder and an arrest. Was he a criminal that associated himself with the police? It wasn’t unlikely. 

"Ah! Little Lorenzo!” Lucifer’s face lightened up. "Need I remind you, your family was running a drug cartel. They were doomed from the start," 

"SHUT UP! That’s my family you’re talking about,” 

"Family shmamily, dear Lorenzo,” The club owner took a few more steps closer. "I’ve alerted the authorities and despite how much I’d love to see you rotting away in a prison cell for shooting me, you don’t deserve that," 

"I need to avenge my father," Lorenzo took a deep breath in. 

”Very original," was Lucifer’s comment.   
  
Malcolm moved, utilizing Lorenzo’s undivided attention on Lucifer to usher out the civilians. He circled around the club, instructing each of them to stay low and exit quickly from the nearest exit. Soon enough, the place was empty. Leaving just Lucifer, Lorenzo, and himself. 

"Vengeance is a grown up’s game, Little Lorenzo," Lucifer was now saying. "Go back to what you know best; being a kid,”

That had to be the first genuine thing Lucifer has said to the young man. But from where Malcolm stood, Lorenzo wasn’t listening. 

"LAPD!" A woman rushed in, followed by a team of officers. "Drop, your weapon!"

"This has to happen.. They said this will fix things....” Lorenzo cocks his gun, aiming it at Lucifer’s chest. "They said this will right every wrong," 

"I said drop your weapon!" The woman shouts. 

Malcolm needed to act fast. From the corner of his eye, he spotted a chain link purse that must’ve been dropped by its owner. He unhooked the chain handle and tried to get a good angle of Lorenzo. 

He couldn’t hear what Lucifer was telling him, but it was causing Lorenzo’s grip on the weapon loosen. Malcolm didn’t waste anymore time. He got close enough to use the chain as a whip to knock the weapon onto the floor.

The room fell silent, and Malcolm could pick up in a soft ticking noise from inside of Lorenzo’s jacket. Malcolm tackled him from the side and unstrapped the explosive from his person. 

"A bomb," Malcolm announced. "And it has fifteen seconds on the clock," 

"Put it on the floor, we need to evacuate." The detective ordered. "Clear the building." 

The cops rushed over and grabbed Lorenzo. 

"We’re not letting a bomb go off in my club," Lucifer groaned. "I won’t allow it," 

"We don’t have a choice,” she urged. 

"Not necessarily," Malcolm broke free from the hold a cop had him. He reached down for the discarded gun, "Here goes nothing,"

He tossed the bomb into the air and released multiple shots at it. It fell to the ground completely undone. 

Malcolm let out a deep rattling breath, "I’m so glad that worked," 

"You weren’t sure?” The woman gawked at him. "Who are you?"

"Chloe, dear, don’t be rude," Lucifer faced her. "He just saved my nightclub,"

"I’m Malcolm. Malcolm Bright," 


	2. Piecing Together Very Small Pieces

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THANK YOU SO KUCH FOR YOUR KIND WORDS ON THE FIRST CHAPTER!!! I didn’t think anybody would like this, but I’m super glad that you guys do!!!!! ❤️

“We’ll, Mr. Bright, I’ll need you to come down to the station with us. So we can take down your statement of what went down tonight,” The detective, Chloe, said. "I understand it’s late, but we’ll be quick,"

"Lead the way," Malcolm was secretly excited he’ll be station a lot closer to the action. 

She led him out of the nightclub with Lucifer trailing behind them. Malcolm looked over to a cop slapping a pair of handcuffs on Lorenzo’s wrists. There was something about the young man that didn’t make sense to Malcolm, he mentioned a “They” when he was close to shooting Lucifer. He wasn’t acting on his own, he was one hundred percent sure this act of vengeance wasn’t Lorenzo’s idea… He was just a pawn piece in someone’s game of chess.

Chloe opened the side door to her car expectantly, “Get in,”

Malcolm smoothed down his suit jacket and settled into, “Since you asked so nicely,”

“Oh, detective, I like him,” Lucifer chuckled as he took up the passenger’s seat.

“Of course you do,”

“So,” Chloe said as they reached the end of the block. “Do you always go around shooting at bombs midair trying to save lives? “

“Not often,” Malcolm shrugged. “Sometimes I jump out of a window or to chop off someone’s hand to avoid being blown to pieces. But I was told not to talk about that. Legal reasons,”

“You’re not joking, are you?” she said after a brief silence.

Malcolm put his hands up as if to say, _What can I say? It’s true._

“So you’re a cop?” Chloe pressed.

“Not really,” Malcolm replied. “I’m a criminal profiler with the NYPD,”

“I wasn’t aware criminal profilers dealt with bombs,” she looked at him with suspicion through the rear view mirror.

“I have a certain skill set,” Malcolm cleared his throat. "It’s my turn to ask questions, who’s Lorenzo? And his family? How long ago was the case that sent his brother away behind bars? Does he have any other immediate family? He mentioned a 'They' and I believe 'They' are the ones responsible for the desperate attack against LUX,"

"Failed attack against me," Lucifer corrected as Chloe asked. "What makes you believe it’s desperate?"

"The bomb,” Malcolm slid over so he can be directly in between the two from his seat in the back. "The bomb was ticking down to fifteen seconds by the time I found it, and it must’ve started it’s count down the moment he entered LUX. Whoever ‘They’ are didn’t care if Lorenzo came out alive. ‘They’ just wanted the job done."

"So the bomb was a back up plain in case anything we went wrong?" She questioned.

"Not necessarily," Malcolm replied. "The bomb was going to set off regardless of Lorenzo’s assassination attempt. Which indicates to Lorenzo’s expend-ability... He’s working with powerful people. A large group of powerful people." 

"Those are huge claims you’re throwing around, Mr. Bright," Chloe said pointedly. "You know there procedures of investigation," 

"Look, he’ll be at the station. Let me have five minutes with him I’ll get him to confess," He suggested. 

"You aren’t a cop, and you don’t work for the LAPD in any way. I’m not letting you anywhere near the perp," Chloe shot him down. There was a lot about her that reminded him of Gil. 

_Shit_ , Malcolm winced inwardly. _I_ _didn't get back to Gil._ _He's going to get suspicious real soon._

He pulled out his phone and shot the older man a text,

To: Gil  
I'm still breathing 

The rest of the ride to the station, Malcolm kept catching the glances the two kept exchanging between each other. The possibility of them figuring out who he was crossed Malcolm's mind, but he didn't entertain that thought for long because he has been successfully avoiding being caught in the media. For once his identity as The Surgeon's son will not cloud someone's judgement of him. He missed having that advantage of none one knowing his history, or what the media showed, that's one of the many reason why he changed his name in the first place.

 _Speaking of names_ , Malcolm looked over to Lucifer wondering if that was his real name. Not that it mattered if it wasn't, Malcolm was simply curious to know the history behind being named or choosing to name one's self Lucifer. He could pick up the biblical reference of rebellion, however his brother is named Amenadiel which was another biblical name. So the probability of Lucifer being his birth name was now slightly higher. 

At the station, Malcolm was left in a small room that consisted of two small metal chairs and a metal table. It was an interrogation room. He was left with his own thoughts for twenty minutes, and it started to look like nobody was joining him anytime soon. He took advantage of not being cuffed to the table and slipped out of the room in search of Lorenzo. He had some questions that needed answering. 

Lorenzo could be anywhere, and it would be only a matter of time when Chloe finds out he left the room she told him to stay in. He straightened his jacket in attempt to look as a part of the station. Malcolm confidently strolled past a group of cops, and picked up on one of them saying that Lorenzo was in interrogation room seven. Finding room seven was too easy, and Malcolm should know that easy is too good to be true.... He was right, Lucifer and detective Chloe were in there. He needed to know what they were telling him.

He tried the doorknob, and to his luck, it was unlocked. He stepped it.

"Mr. Bright, you sneaky devil," Lucifer laughed to himself. "This is official police business,"

"What is business does a nightclub owner have with the police?"

"I work with them," Lucifer said defensively. "Why is it that everybody asks that?" 

_Oh_ , Macolm thought. _That makes sense. It also explains why he’s here in the first place.  
_

"Chloe," he faced the woman. "Give me five minutes,"

"It’s detective Decker," she corrected him. 

"Detective Decker," he tried again. "Please,"

"Okay," she gave in after a moment. "Five minutes." 

"Lorenzo," Malcolm softened his voice, settling in front of him. "You mentioned a 'They' at the nightclub. Can you tell me who you were referencing to?"

"I can't....." the boy's voice trailed off.

"You're safe here," Malcolm assured him. "They can't hurt you,"

"You don't understand... they promised everything would be right again,"

"They were planning on killing you too," Malcolm reminded him. "You'd be dead if it wasn't for me. We'd all be dead,"

"You think I don't know that? You think that I want to be alive? Everything was stripped away from me. I have nothing left to live for!" Lorenzo's tears were pooling in his eyes. 

"How was dying supposed to fix things?" 

"Because I, because I would..." his voice trailed off again. 

"You don’t know, do you?" Malcolm eyed him. "Whoever 'They' are convinced you to play the role of the sacrificial lamb," 

"No, not a sacrificial lamb," Lorenzo mumbled. "A martyr! I was supposed to die a martyr!" 

Another biblical reference, Malcolm thought. 

"Thank you Mr. Bright," Chloe stood, facing him. "We can handle it from here," 

"I can help," Malcolm protested. "If I can ask a few more questions-"

"No, I can lose my job over you being in here," 

"Lorenzo," Malcolm turned to the young man. "Tell me, why martyr? Saints die as martyrs not criminals,"

"They promised me," his tears were streaming down his face. "They promised me Heaven,"

"That’s enough," Chloe threatened. 

"Heaven? Are you a part of a religious cult?" Malcolm ignored Chloe. 

"Isn’t all of humanity?" Lucifer sighed. 

"Which cult? Which religious practice? We’ll need all the information you have in order for us to stop them,"

"There’s no ‘us.’ There’s no ‘we.’" Chloe raised her voice. "I appreciate what you’ve done to help us so far, but Lucifer and I got it from here," 

"But-" 

"No buts," Lucifer lead him to the door. "Do hit yourself on the way out," 

Malcolm was pushed out of the room, and he could hear the door being locked locked. He reached for the doorknob, but his phone going off stopped him midway. 

He checked caller ID, it was his mother. Malcolm took a deep breath and hit the green button. 

"Mother," He answered a little too quickly. "Hello,"

"Don't act surprised to hear from me," she huffed. "I messaged you that I was going to call you,"

Malcolm checked his phone screen for the time, it was nearly six am. He put his phone back to his ear.

"....and I know you read them without replying to me. Your sweet sister Ainsley told me what 'read' means," 

Malcolm groaned, he forgot to turn that feature off. "Of course she did,"

"Now tell me, Malcolm, how is LA so far?"

"I haven't been here for twenty-four hours yet to formulate an opinion,"

"Okay, how'd you sleep?"

"Uh-" 

"You didn't sleep, did you?"

"You got me," Malcolm thought one truth couldn't hurt. "I didn't sleep. How's Sunshine?"

"Don't try to distract me with questions about that parakeet," his mother sighed painfully. "Did you not take your medication? Malcolm, promise me you'll take them and rest,"

"I promise I'll try to rest," Malcolm told her. "You know, what? I’m going to rest now."

"Malcolm-" 

"It’s six am, I’ll rest until noon. That way I can enjoy LA. Can’t wait to tell you all about it."

"Goodbye, mother," 

"Malcolm-" 

"Bye," he hung up.

"Are you done with your phone call with mother dearest?" Lucifer’s voice came from behind him. "He isn’t talking, and the detective said you can help. Only from a distance, because I refuse to be replaced by someone named Malcolm," 

"Great," Malcolm stepped forward, but was stopped by Lucifer. 

"But first," Lucifer’s eyes fixed on his own. "You must answer one simple question. It’s a precautionary measure, I’m sure you understand," 

"Which is?" Malcolm asked, giving the taller man a pointed look. 

"What is it that you truly desire, Malcolm Bright?" A smile stretched across Lucifer’s face. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!


	3. Where the Subconscious Mind Meets the Conscious Body

_What is it that you truly desire, Malcolm Bright?_

The question echoed in his mind, bouncing against the walls within his head. The more he thought about the man’s question, the tighter his chest became. Malcolm could feel his heart slamming against his rib-cage. His chest was pleading for a release, but a release Malcolm wasn’t going to offer. Not willingly, at least. 

He tried to formulate his own question, anything to distract his mind, but the wrong words kept filling his mouth. He'd quickly swallow them and try again. He was trapped in his own mind due to a form of hypnosis that required a physical response in order to break free and Malcolm wondered how Lucifer was doing it. 

"Now, Malcolm, has mommy and daddy ever told you that sharing is caring?" the man sing-singed. "Tell the Devil your desire?"

Malcolm locked eyes with him, his pulse picking up and he could feel his sweat beading on his forehead. 

"C'mon, you know you want to," Lucifer urged. "Tell me," 

Malcolm felt his mouth open, but he responded by slamming both of his hands against his mouth. Malcolm could hear what he was about to spill from his lips, he could also feel the weight of his words. They were laced with a dark truth that should never see the light of day. He tightened his hands against his face. 

"That’s new, well, new-ish," the taller man commented. "Your resistance is admirable, but I’m getting impatient," 

Malcolm’s his eyes were still locked on Lucifer’s, he was finding it difficult to look away. He didn’t understand why. This fight Lucifer has him in against himself was growing to be painful. It was almost as if he was trapped with his father in a small room but slightly different. Malcolm knew his father to a certain extent, Lucifer however is new territory. 

"Oh dear me," Lucifer said. "You’re changing color," 

Before Malcolm could register what was being said to him, darkness began clouding his vision. 

"Lucifer, what are doing to him?"   
  
Detective Decker’s voice was the last thing he heard as he lost consciousness. 

Malcolm was falling, sinking into darkness. His drop from consciousness was fast and he was only picking up speed. A single moment passed until he hit the ground beneath him with a loud thud. Malcolm opened his eyes, expecting darkness, but surroundings have shifted into a brightly lit small room. On the other side of it, a mere five steps, sat an older man on a wooden stool with a glass of whiskey. 

"I was starting to think you'd never show up," the man commented with a deep rumble of laughter that felt like it was shaking the room.

"Who are you? Where am I?" Malcolm stood his ground. 

"We are in your mind, Malcolm Whitly," The man replied, his eyes zeroing onto Malcolm's. "I need to have a chat with you,"

"That's not my name," Malcolm gritted.

"Right, apologies, you're Malcolm Bright," the man couldn't be any less sincere. He leaned forward with interest. "What is it that you last remember?"

"I fell unconscious..." Malcolm's voice trailed off. "I was fighting Lucifer's hypnosis..."

"My son and his games," the man sighed into his glass.

"Your son?"

"Yes, one of my eldest even if he doesn't act that way,"

"I get it," Malcolm said suddenly. "This is a dream. It has to be a dream."

"What makes you say that?"

"My subconscious is trying to explain Lucifer's party trick to me," Malcolm said firmly. "So it's creating this scenario where you, as my subconscious, explain it to me."

"I'm not here to explain my son's 'party trick', Malcolm," The man shook his head. "I'm here to discuss Lorenzo Moretti and his involvement with my other children. You guessed them to be a religious cult, and you weren't far from the truth. 'They' happen to be celestial beings;Angels,"

Unsure on how to respond to the man before him, Malcolm fell into a fit of uncontrollable laughter. 

"What is so humorous?" the man shot him an annoyed look.

"Angels, huh?" Malcolm's laughter didn't stop. "Does that make you God? And Lucifer the actual Devil?"

"Yes," the man, God, deadpanned. 

The younger man's laughter came to a halt, "This has to be a weird dream my mind is creating," Malcolm said, mostly to himself. "Or a very weird hallucination. I've finally gone insane,"

"You've seen the signs, or they'll be more clear soon after," 

"Yep, definitely I'm going insane from the lack of sleep," Malcolm said to himself. 

"You aren't going insane, and this is very much real. When has your subconscious has ever been wrong? When has it ever lied to you?" God asked pointedly.

"But the Devil? Actual angels? You being God?" Malcolm ran his hand through his hair. "I'm not even religious, why is this happening to me?"

"Because, Malcolm Bright, you are a brilliant man. I need you to save Lucifer, his life is in danger. Seek out Amenadiel, he'll assist you,"

"What kind of danger? How can I help?"

"His siblings are angry, and you are brilliant. You can help Chloe Decker at a quicker pace. I'm afraid Lucifer does not have much time,"

"If you are who you say you are, why can't you save him?"

"I cannot interfere, even if I could he would refuse my aide," God finished his drink. "We parted on extreme terms,"

"I'm familiar with the story,"

"As I am with yours," God countered. "You and Lucifer are more alike than you know,"

"Unless you're a killer, I don't think so,"

"Many see me as such," God replied. "Do you see me that way?"

"I haven't seen you in any way for a very long time," Malcolm replied honestly. 

"That's fair," God stood. "You'd best wake up now. I trust you'd make good decisions, Malcolm,"

"A mistake on your part," 

"Before we part ways, I should grant you a small gift," God told him. "The gift of immunity, because I believe that deep within you you're darkest desire does not define who you are,"

"Immune to what?"

"Goodbye, Malcolm," 

"Wait, immune to what-"

Before Malcolm could finish his sentence, the room began to grow brighter and brighter. Malcolm shielded his eyes from the pure white light and when he opened them he was seated in a chair in a break room of sorts. He could hear voices coming from outside the door. 

"I’m telling you, Chloe, he suffocated himself," That was Lucifer’s unmistakable voice. "As a response to my question," 

"So he nearly killed himself because he didn’t want to answer your desire question," Chloe said. "I didn’t know other people could resist answering,"

"This resistance never happened before,"

"It doesn’t work on me,"

"Chloe, it doesn’t work on you at all. It worked on Malcolm, I felt it work, but he’s a stubborn one. His secrets can’t stay in the dark forever," 

"Lucifer, you can’t force someone to share something they want hidden-"

"What if he’s dangerous, detective?"

Malcolm froze at that. He wasn’t dangerous. He wasn’t like... He isn’t like... He couldn’t bring himself to finish that claim. Maybe because it wasn’t true or maybe because he didn’t believe it himself. 

"Let me go check on him," Chloe sighed. 

Malcolm stood, straightened out his suit jacket, and combed his hair back. He didn’t need to look as disheveled as he felt. 

"You’re awake," 

"How long was I out?" he asked her.

"A few minutes," 

"A new record," He said, mostly to himself. 

Chloe, who clearly picked up on his comment, just stared at him. Malcolm noted the exhaustion behind her eyes, "Is there anyone I can call for you?" 

"No need," Malcolm shot her a quick smile. "I can take care of myself."

"There he is," Lucifer announced as he joined them. "How was that deep unconscious sleep you put yourself into?" 

"That depends if you're going to explain what you did to me," Malcolm, against all better judgment, walked right into Lucifer’s personal space. 

"I asked you a question that looks deep into your soul," Lucifer smirked. "Comes with the perks of being the Devil,"

_That could be a sign,_ Malcolm thought to himself. 

"Lucifer, don't start," Chloe warned. 

"Do it again," Malcolm challenged, his going back to his 'gift of immunity.'

"Are you sure? You didn't react so well last time?"

"Just ask me," Malcolm eyes pierced into Lucifer's. 

"Malcolm, what is your deepest darkest desire?"

Malcolm awaited a while for the racing heartbeat and the shaking breathes, but they never came. He cracked a wide smile, "I guess your party trick lost its affect on me,"

"Wait, how? I don't understand-"

"I think we've wasted enough time," Malcolm turned to Chloe. "We have a case to solve,"

As Malcolm strode ahead of them, something in the back of his mind began to believe that he did have an encounter with God. Malcolm quickly pushed that thought down, because that was insane, right?

Right?


	4. The Second Time is a Charm

It was decided by Chloe that they should head back home to get some rest and meet up again by 3:00 pm, considering it was almost 7:00 am. Malcolm did not argue or try to convince her otherwise. He had a lot on his mind that he needed to analyze. 

She dropped him off in front of his hotel, after much insistence, with strict instructions to be at the station on time or they'll be leaving without him. He assured the detective he will, then she drove off without another word. 

Malcolm saw his way up to his room and removed himself from his clothing. He reached for a bottle of water and grabbed his pills. He knew his pills do not have the answer to all of his ailments, however, they do have a pattern. If he takes his pills and is reunited with his night terrors instead of returning to the white room, his meeting with “God” was just a side effect due to his exhaustion. 

But if Malcolm does return to where he met "God" that will mean... that would mean the same way he projects his father into his mind he’s somehow projecting God. Or a variation of a god. Which was still baffling to him. Because God wasn’t next on his list of People To Hallucinate. 

"Here goes nothing," Malcolm poured his required amount of pills into his hand, popped them into his mouth, and chased them down with water. 

He strapped himself by the wrists into to bed rest and immediately he was out. Almost immediately Malcolm felt a cool breeze and opened his eyes to reveal himself to be standing in an empty bright space. He couldn’t believe it. 

"The moment I actually look forward to my night terrors I end up here," he muttered to himself looking around the familiar white space. "Again,"

The white space was much bigger this time around. He could see no beginning or end; an endless expanse of white. Malcolm walked on, after a moment it felt like he was walking in place. He changed directions multiple times, but it all felt the same. Very very still. 

Despite the seeming nothingness, Malcolm’s mind was very alert. Something inside of him told him to keep moving. So, he did. It began to feel pointless until he heard the distant sound of Beethoven’s Ninth Symphony and followed it. 

As he drew closer to the source of the music, Malcolm saw God, he really needed to start calling him something else, leaning against an extremely out of place bar counter with a vinyl record player atop of it.

"Do we have to keep meeting like this, Malcolm?" God asked tiredly. "I thought we parted on good terms," 

"We don’t have to meet at all," he countered. 

"You’re having a hard time taking what’s being said at face value. I’m not speaking in metaphors, and I’m not lying to you," 

"Then why does it feel unreal? Why do I believe this is just another one of my episodes?"

"Because you aren’t afraid. Are you afraid, Malcolm?" 

"Should I be?" Malcolm asked pointedly. 

"That’s entirely up to you," God extended his hand offering him a glass of whiskey. 

"Thanks," Malcolm accepted it. 

"I’m not a result of your mental state," God took a swing of his drink. "I’m real,"

"Is there something I can call you by?" Malcolm asked.

"God is my name-"

"That's not doing it for me. So name?"

"I like Greg, let's keep the alliteration going,"

"Okay, Greg, saying you’re real doesn’t make you an less unreal. Okay, so, let’s say you are real. Where were you when my dad was killing people? Where were when he spent most of my childhood using chloroform to put me to bed? Where were you when all of those women were pleading out for help? Where were you?" 

"I’ve created humans to have free will," Greg spoke after a moment. "Free will is what makes humanity so special. However, your father, and people like him, abuse that to harm others. I cannot step in and regulate free will. That’s why humanity created laws, to regulate their own free will and the free will of their society." 

Malcolm downed his whiskey, "Where should I start?" 

"Excuse me?"

"Us meeting happened twice," Malcolm explained. "Two times, despite me taking my pills before the second time. If this is real or not, my mind is trying to help and I’m not going to ignore it. So, again, where should I start?" 

"As I said before, look for Amenadiel. He has tabs on all the angels that pass through earth." 

"Amenadiel has a list of potential suspects," Malcolm nodded. "Got it," 

"I’m relieved you’re not denying this anymore, Malcolm," 

"Let’s not get ahead of ourselves," Malcolm placed his cup down. 

"You should be waking up," Greg poured himself another drink. "You don’t want to get on Chloe Decker’s bad side," 

"So, we’ll see each other again? I’m guessing in a few hours?" 

"Let’s not get ahead of ourselves," Greg said with a smirk. 

Just like last time, the white light grew brighter until Malcolm couldn’t look at it anymore. After bringing his arm down from his eyes, he found himself in his bed. Malcolm released his right hand and checked his phone phone, it was almost 1 pm. His phone also revealed that he had one missed call from Gil.

Malcolm took a deep breath and call him back.

"Malcolm, I was starting to get worried," Gil said in lieu of a greeting.

"Of course you were," Malcolm rubbed his eyes. 

"Wait, are you just waking up?" Gil asked. "Isn't it one in the afternoon?"

"Can't I ever sleep in?"

"You? Never." Gil huffed out a little bit of laughter. 

"Alright, Gil,I had a rough night," Malcolm offered him a half truth.

"You alright?"

"Yeah, just had trouble sleeping. The usual,"

"Malcolm-"

"But I caught a good four and a half hours," He assured him.

"Is that Suits on the line?" Malcolm heard JT in the background. "Ayo Suits, how's the City of Angels?"

 _City of Angels, huh,_ Malcolm took a mental note. 

"It's pretty good," Malcolm replied. "A little too bright,"

"We don't want L.A. coming after your brand now do we, Bright?" Dani joked. 

"Ha ha," Malcolm rolled his eyes. "What kind of cases am I missing out on?"

"Nope," Gil interjected. "I'm ending the call now. Goodbye, kid,"

"Text the group chat with updates!" Dani shouted.

"And don't spend all your money on candy!" JT added.

"Wait, what group chat?" Gil asked. 

"Nothing," Malcolm quickly replied. 

"You kids and your secrets," Gil muttered.

Malcolm checked checked the time it was almost 1:30, "Alright, I have to go,"

"Oh?" Dani sounded interested.

"Nothing like that," Malcolm laughed. "I just need to be somewhere,"

"Stay out of trouble," Gil warned.

"I will," Malcolm sighed. "Bye, guys,"

"Bye!"

As soon as the call ended, Malcolm hopped into the shower. By the time he was on his way to the station it was a little past 2 pm, and he arrived fifteen minutes before three. 

"Mikey!" Lucifer greeted him. "Just the man I've been waiting for,"

"It's Malcolm,"

"Sure it is," Lucifer grabbed his shoulder. "I want to have a little chat with you regarding our last interaction."

"When you couldn't hypnotize me,"

"Hypnotizing makes me sound like a cheap magician," Lucifer scoffed. 

"Aren't you?"

"No, I'm not," Lucifer stood tall. "I'm Lucifer bloody Morningstar, the Devil,"

 _Well, he's clearly a narcissist_ , Malcolm thought. _Was the Devil a narcissist?_

Malcolm made a mental note to find out. 

"Lucifer, who is this guy?" A man with a badge on his hip asked. 

"Not now, douche, we're in the middle of a conversation,"

"C'mon, don't be a dick,"

"Ugh fine, Daniel, this is Malcolm Bight. An NYPD crime scene matchmaker," 

"Criminal Profiler," Malcolm corrected, extending his hand. 

"Dan Espinoza," Dan shook his hand. "You working the case with Chloe? Why is the NYPD involved?"

"They are not," Malcolm laughed humorlessly. "I'm just offering my aide,"

"Pretty unwantedly at that," Lucifer piped in.

"Oh? Maybe you can relate," Dan remarked. "Considering you're usually unwanted,"

"I beg your pardon, Danny Boy," Lucifer gawked. "I'm much more useful than you are,"

"What do you have so far?" Dan asked, ignoring Lucifer. "Regarding the case,"

"This has to be the workings of a religious cult," Malcolm told him. "I just don't know which religious affiliation or why,"

 _You do know why_ , Malcolm corrected himself. 

"This isn't my case, but I'm always willing to lend a helping hand if you need it,"

"Don't listen to Daniel," Lucifer scoffed. "Nothing about him is useful,"

"Don't you ever get tired of being a jackass?"

"For you? Never,"

"Alrighty, boys," Chloe clapped her hands together walking up from behind them. "Let's go, we have a lead,"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There will be more Chloe in the next chapter! I promise!


	5. A Familiar Face in LA

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took so long I had to rewrite this three times and I still don't like it very much... But I hope it doesn't disappoint too much

Malcolm kept mostly to himself on the car ride to Lorenzo' apartment complex. His mind was where it was only a few hours ago with Greg. Malcolm had a run in with Greg twice. Twice means its the beginning of a pattern. A pattern Malcolm doesn't know how to categorize; he became unaffected by Lucifer after his first meeting with Greg. But can he hold that as evidence to dreams being actually real?

He didn't know and he hated not knowing.

In the meantime, Malcolm needed to keep his attention on this case. Then, after he could come to terms of what's happening inside his head. Or the outside of it. 

Chloe pulled into the parking that belonged a run-down apartment complex. She lead them into the building and walked up to the woman smoking by the window.

"I'm detective Chloe Decker with the LAPD," Chloe told her. "Are you the owner of this property?"

"Depends on why your're here for," the woman eyed them.

"I'm here to question you on one of your tenants," Chloe replied.

"Then, yes, I am the owner of this property," the woman stood tall. "Is it Corey you need information on? I'll tell whatever you need to get him out of here," 

"We're here for information on Lorenzo Moretti," Chloe told the other woman.

"Lorenzo?" The woman looked confused. "What did the kid do?"

"We can't talk about an ongoing investigation," Chloe informed her. "Is there you can tell us about him? Like what he was up to in the past few days?"

"I couldn't tell you," the woman shrugged.

"Listen, Ms..." Malcolm trailed off.

"Daphne," she supplied. 

"Ms. Daphne, this investigation is very important and anything would help," Malcolm tried.

"Look here, Baby Blue, I can't tell you guys anything because I didn't know the kid personally," the landlord, Daphne, took a drag out of her cigarette. 

"He lived here for years," Malcolm pointed out, ignoring the nickname she appointed to him. 

"He paid on time for years, the tenants that don't pay rent are usually the ones who get all my attention,"

"Ah, yes, the good ol' saying: the lousy tenant gets the eviction notice," Lucifer chuckled. 

"I like you," Daphne cackled. 

"Who doesn't," Lucifer countered with an award winning smile. 

"Is there anything you can provide to help this investigation?" detective Decker questioned, rolling her eyes at her partner.

"There was this guy Lorenzo occasionally met with," Daphne blew out smoke from her nose like a fictional dragon. "I might have his contact information on file from the first time he came here,"

"That would help," Decker told her.

"Was he a close figure in Lorenzo's life or fairly new?" Malcolm asked.

"I saw him a couple of times in the past three months. Take from that what you will,"

"Define a couple," Malcolm pressed.

"Six or seven times," Daphne replied, then walked into the room behind her, presumably her office, to retrieve the contact information. 

"That could narrow down their meeting to twice a month," Malcolm said to nobody in particular.

"And this is supposed to be important because?" Lucifer raised an eyebrow.

"Financial reasons," Malcolm answered. "In a typical non-salary job, workers get paid biweekly. These meetings have to do with money," 

"If he made his rental payments on time why would he meet with someone for money?" Lucifer asked him.

"Maybe this how he receives it, and if he's receiving money.."

"...it means he's doing a job," Chloe finished Malcolm's sentence.

"So, Lorenzo is a hit-man who gets paid every other week," Lucifer said slowly. "He doesn't seem to be the type,"

"We don't know that," Chloe said. 

"But I do," Malcolm cut in. "His 'hit' on Lucifer was Lorenzo's first one. He was shaky and wasn't properly holding his gun. This job is something else, but important enough to hold in person meetings," 

"Maybe twice a month are his cult meeting times," Lucifer suggested. 

"That theory isn’t too outlandish. Could be possible," Chloe said.

"This is it," Daphne said, emerging from the office, handing a piece of paper over to Chloe.

"Thank you," Chloe accepted the piece of paper. "We're going to search his apartment then be on our way,"

"Let me call my nephew to walk to his apartment," Daphne ducked her head into her office. "Xander, come out here,"

A lanky kid, maybe about 20, walked over to Daphne's side. "Hi,"

"Take these three to apartment three-two-three," she handed him a key. 

The kid nodded and lead them to the elevator and pressed the button to the third floor. 

"Did you know Lorenzo Moretti?" Malcolm asked Xander.

"Yeah, he was cool,"

"Cool in a criminal way?" Lucifer asked. 

"No, he plays a lot of instruments and paints awesome paintings," Xander shrugged. "He was teaching me how to play the guitar,"

"Your aunt didn't mention that you two were close," Malcolm said.

"Aunt Daphne doesn’t know. Plus, she wouldn't like it," Xander said. "She says getting close to the tenants makes them think they are family, then makes them believe shouldn't pay rent,"

"Sounds like a smart woman," Lucifer commented, earning him a nudge from Chloe.

The elevator opened its doors and Xander gestured for them to follow him. Almost at the end of the hall, they stopped at room three-two-three. "This is it,"

Xander unlocked the door, and stepped aside. "This is it," 

Chloe stepped in, followed by Lucifer. Malcolm lingered by Xander's side for a moment before entering the apartment. 

Malcolm was immediately met with the smell of paint. He walked deeper into the apartment, past Lucifer and Chloe who were bickering by a drum set. More specifically, bickering because Lucifer is playing the drums. 

Malcolm found Lorenzo's room, and couldn't help but admire the art hanging on the walls. His art spoke volumes, his strokes erratic and the colors are all muted. They all look like what his therapist would call "a cry for help." But Malcolm thought of them as therapeutic. 

There wasn't anything out of the ordinary that called out to his attention. Everything seemed normal, or what Malcolm would assume normal looked like. Just as a precaution, he did search the room for anything he could use. Anything he could link to the religious cult, he refuses to call them angels, that convinced him to attack Lucifer.

After searching through everything, Malcolm found a small slip of paper inside a lampshade with an address on it. He turned to share what he found with the other two, but promptly stopped in his tracks. He didn't know how far along Chloe was going to allow him to stay on the case, and needed a something to fall back on. So, he pocketed the paper. He walked out of the room and joined the other two.

"Found anything?" Malcolm asked. 

"Only his laptop," Chloe held up with a gloved hand. "We're taking it back to our team at the station. You find anything?"

"No," Malcolm lied easily. 

"I'll comb through his room just in case," Chloe said walking past him.

It didn't take long for her to come out with nothing. "Let's go,"

The contact information lead them to another apartment complex, but this time a lot more expensive. Malcolm examined the lobby and caught sight of a familiar face. 

"Vijay?" Malcolm's eyes widened, walking over to his friend. 

"Malcolm? What are you doing in LA?" Vijay smiled wide, wrapping Malcolm in a hug. 

"I'm on vacation," Malcolm shrugged, after pulling away. "At least it started out that way. What are you doing in LA?"

"I live here now, to get away from the mess that is New York," 

"You two know each other?" Chloe questioned the two men.

"Yeah," Malcolm answered. "Went to boarding school together," 

"You can reunite at another time if you want to help on the case, Bright," Detective Decker told him. "We need to get a hold of Lorenzo Moretti’s acquaintance," 

Malcolm felt Vijay tense up beside him, "Vijay, again?"

"What do you mean by ‘again’?" Vijay shot back.

"You’re involved with another crime," Malcolm scolded. "That’s what I mean by again," 

"Another crime?" Lucifer looked delighted. 

"Bright, are you saying this is Lorenzo’s acquaintance?" Chloe asked. 

"The name is Vijay Chandasara, and I do know Lorenzo, I'm his insurance guy," Vijay confessed. "But I don't know what this is all about,"

"Why would this kid need an insurance guy?" Lucifer stepped forward.

"Because he's loaded," Vijay said matter-of-factly. 

"Explains why he made his rental payments on time," Chloe said mostly to herself.

"Don't get me started on that dumpster fire of a place that he lives at," Vijay huffed. "I went there once, and was almost attacked by three rats,"

"If our little attempted assassin is wealthy why does he live there? Why does he need you?" Lucifer directed at Vijay.

"I'm telling all that I know," Vijay threw his hands up defensively.

"I don't think you are, Mr. Chandasara. Tell me, what is it that you desire?"

Malcolm watched as his friend went into a trance. One half of Malcolm wanted to take Vijay as far away from Lucifer as he can, but the other half wanted to see this play out.

"I, I want to help people like me," Vijay said slowly.

"People like you? Go on tell the Devil more,"

"Rich kids with parents that fucked them over," Vijay replied. 

"Oh, like my therapist does with me," Lucifer commented.

"What do you get out of it?" Chloe asked.

"Other than the satisfaction of helping? The money of course," Vijay shook himself out of the trance. "What did you just do to me?"

"Nothing you need to worry cute little head over," Lucifer said, pinching Vijay's cheek.

"Mr. Chandasara, you need to come down to the station with us just so we can take down your statement," Chloe told him.

"I'm not under arrest, am I?"

"No," Malcolm assured him just as Lucifer smirked. "Not yet,"

Inside Chloe's cruiser, Vijay spoke up, "Is anybody going to actually tell me what's going on? Is Lorenzo okay?"

"This is an ongoing investigation, we can't tell you much,"

"He's fine," Malcolm replied, assuring his friend.

"So," Vijay dragged out. "You replaced your NYPD buddies for upgrades?"

"They aren't upgrades," Malcolm argued. "No one is replacing anyone,"

"Excuse you, I'm sure I'm an upgrade compared to anyone you were working with before," Lucifer snorted from the passenger's seat.

"You are," Vijay confirmed. 

"Can you stop insulting my friends now?" Malcolm sighed. 

Lucifer opened his mouth, but was shut 

After a pregnant pause, Vijay broke the silence, "So first the FBI, then the NYPD, and now the LAPD? You got one hell of a resume, Whi-Bright,"

"You didn't mention you were FBI," Chloe said, looking at him through the rear view mirror.

"It didn't come up," Malcolm eyed Vijay who mouthed a 'sorry.'

Malcolm doesn't need these people knowing too much about him, too much information might pique their interest and he doesn't need anyone researching his history. 

"Why'd you leave?" Chloe asked.

"Conflict of interest," He replied, not bothering to elaborate.

The remainder of the ride back to the station was in silence. Once they arrived to the station, Chloe took Vijay to take down his statement and Malcolm stood by her office looking through his phone when two notification came through from the group chat.

Dani: Maaaaaaalcolmm  
  
TeeJay: M A L C O L M 

Malcolm: Yes?

Dani: You're usually spamming the group chat for updates

Malcolm: maybe I'm busy enjoying my time in the sun?

TeeJay: We know you too well to fall for that bullshit

TeeJay: oh shit did you try to meddle in police business and get arrested? 

Malcolm: not exactly

Dani: Bright what happened.

Malcolm laughed because only Dani could make a question sound like a statement. 

Malcolm: Okay okay I'm with the LAPD

Dani: enough Malcolm

Malcolm: hear me out

TeeJay: we don't have to

Dani: I really don't want to

Malcolm: I'm working a case surrounding a violent religious cult

TeeJay: why are you like this?

Malcolm: please don't tell Gil

Dani: ...

TeeJay: ...

Malcolm: What?

TeeJay: Gil is reading this over my shoulder

Dani: I tried to warn you Bright

Malcolm: ....hi Gil 😇

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading !!!

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!


End file.
